The Oracle and the Shadows of Mountains
by Akihiro the hero
Summary: A story inspired by Stephen King's "The Gunslinger"
1. Foreword

Foreword   
  
This is actually a story inspired by Stephen King¡¯s ¡°The Dark Tower¡± (TDT) book series. I had just read it last week, so the ¡°King-effect¡± was still within me . (Please don¡¯t call your lawyer, King!)   
  
In this story, the characters I used are different from the ones in TDT but the scenes are the same as the ones in ¡°The Gunslinger¡±, like the Oracle, the desert. However, I had also added a few new scene to give the feeling I want. Just to let you know that the setting is in the mountains where the last gunslinger traveled with Jake in a pursuit for the mysterious man in black.   
  
If you wanna know more, just read it!   
  
Yours sincerely,   
  
Blue Mountains 


	2. Chapter 1: The Boy

The Oracle and the Shadows of Mountains  
The Dark Tower Fan fiction. All things related to the Dark Tower belongs to Stephen King, not me.  
  
Chapter One: The Boy  
  
The sun slid down the mountains west among the mist. A purple evening, a perfect evening for praying, he thought. He pulled his long black cloak away from his legs and knelt down on his knees. His hands pressed on his chest and he bowed down towards the Northern Star, towards the direction of his homeland. He prayed silently for his family and companions' safety silently.  
The cold wind pressed gently on his arms, legs, and cheek. He felt his bone freezing under the cold. Then, he gave a leap up and kept jumping up and down in a kind of hallucinating dance. Keep jumping, he thought. It would help to keep him warm for the night. His cloak waved, following the jumps and fall by a lag. Someone far away could have mistaken him for a darkener. The black oily hair bounced like a spring, covering his eyes and then flying up again.  
The stars began to unveil themselves across the dark sky. It was mysteriously dented inwards on two sides, on the sides each facing the sides of the long mountain range. He was on the mountain.  
His bright black eyes scanned the heavens for Orion, the hunter. There was no moon this night, thus allowing full visibility of the celestial crystals. He was there on the eastern sky, wielding his shield on every night and day. He drew in a deep breathe of the cold and thin air into his empty lungs. He then gave a gentle and long sigh. It helped the boy to relax a bit from the weeks of harsh journey through the terrible desert. The boy always loved this feeling of loneliness and peacefulness. It was romantic.  
The dark figure sat down on the rocky ground and drew back his hand. Something black and stony laid in the midst of the mountain shadows. The dark pupils aimed straight at the thing and they shrunk slowly, with the lids narrowing. It looked like a round glassy black platform, rising above the ground by a few inches. A mile away it was or maybe two, but nonetheless, it was of no danger. He turned away for a few seconds and looked again. This time, he saw for a brief moment... a tiny pink crystal pillar... among a circle of tall dark pillars... then all on the thing got blurred. Must be my eyes, he thought.  
He felt a strong urge to go there. To join... her. It was a call from the pits of his soul. No, it must be a demon there seducing me. He slammed his eye lids shut, as if trying to shut out the world.  
He lay down on the hard ground and stared up. Beyond the tall mounds of the mountain were the giant clusters of the pearly stars. They spun slowly like a huge dotted cloth spinning on a rolling mill. The sky turned dark red, the colour of doom. A tall endless tower grew right before him on the entire sky. It was all dark and it shadowed the growing dark menacing red. It grew and grew, tall spikes pierce through it walls, growing all the way up to eternity. The deep bitter and deathly feeling was awakened in his depth of his soul and body, a feeling more bitter than vomiting and eating bitter poison. He rolled onto his chest away from the sight, his hands clutched tightly in a stony ball of fist. Then, the whole world seemed to levitate smoothly and quickly upwards, the walls of the Tower, carved full of evil-looking signs and long black spikes pointing out. The infernal flames shot up like a fountain from the depth of fires below in the Tower, boiling currents of steam and toxic fumes gushed up through the glowing red holes on the walls. The dark air swirled round the Tower like wraiths, sending loud howls everywhere they passed by. The levitation never seemed to end, so did the Tower. It continued to stretch all the way up into the cosmos. But though he didn't not see it, he knew a dark cloaked man, wreathed in dark winds and fires stood on the Tower, watching over All.  
A blast of hot wind shot spiraled upwards round the Tower, throwing fragments of ember into the air. A piercing scream rang in his ears. It was coming in all direction onto the boy. He slammed his ears with his hands and his whole body twitched violently. Come to me... the whole world I shall rule... in hell we reign... The voice of Doom shook the mountain.  
  
The sun rays burrowed through the eyelids and into his weary pupils. A deep red flash burned and out shown everything in his mind. All the images were gone from his mind together with his memories of them. The hidden sun had managed to shoot some ray over the horizon.  
The boy looked behind him. There below him was a little back figure climbing a slope upward, up towards him perhaps. The figure looked up at the shadowing mountains and then saw the boy. Its head remained fix onto him. From it, the taste of hatred fumed and gushed at him like arrows. The hatred gripped him with it long cold hands, seizing his arms tightly. The abruptly, the hands released their grip. Come... come and find me... do not fear me... I won't harm you... I won't... A horridly familiar voice whispered gently in his head. It was the man's voice. The boy carried his right foot up and went in his direction. No! Anther voice boomed in his head. It was then when he came to his sense and turn back to the west. And he never look back.  
A wind rose in the west and his hair flowed gently behind. 


	3. Chapter 2: The Oracle

The Oracle and the Shadows of Mountains  
  
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Chapter 2: The Oracle  
  
1  
  
The road was mainly rocky and dry on the mountains where it seldom rains or snow. Only the hardiest living organism could be found there. The devil grasses' blades crawled out of cracks everywhere. The clouds above were thin and high and none were capable of shielding him from the sun. But when the boy stopped to watch the spacious blue crystal coat over All (the sky), his face , as usual, would appear a small grin. A grin or even a smile was so rare in these places. He began humming a old song taught by his uncle.  
  
The sun in Behord always shine upon us! Radiating her gracious rays on our fields! The sun---  
  
A quick and sudden white flash vaporized every little thought and pictures in his head. He stood silently between two towering wall of the mountains. It came to him that he was all alone ever since he had left his homeland for... the Tower. The thoughts were just an illusion, making him think that he was not alone at all.  
  
In his path, was the thing he saw last night. Tall and narrow glassy pillars rose on the platform. These black pillars together form a large circle. In the middle, stood a little pink pillar made of crystals. The pillars though tall and dark were insignificant to the one in the middle. The crystal pillar stood there seemly for thousands of years for the ancient beauty it radiated, but it was flawless and smooth. Argeorn, he thought. This must be Argeorn.  
  
No man could be able to resist its beauty. He was irresistibly drawn to it like a child to sweets. He stepped onto the sooth and glassy black platform. A murmur was heard nearby or was it his imagination?  
  
Suddenly, a dark feeling was set aflame in his soul. His muscles tightened involuntarily at once. Danger is near, he thought. A shadow slithered over his body like a snake and its joined with its owner on Argeorn. It stood gracefully on it, looking directly at the boy.  
  
He felt the coming of the taunting feeling again.  
  
2  
  
The man had followed the boy for months, but never ever reaching him. He had tracked him from his homeland to the great desert, and had nearly died several times. Ka*, he thought (*destiny). The boy, too, seem to be on the verge of death from the small number of meals he ate.  
  
He climbed up another step of rock and rested under a shadow. He glanced up at the shadowing rock above and shook his head gently. The rocks could have fallen on him during hot days and freezing nights. He stood up shakily and continued walking up the rocky mountain path.  
  
Sometimes, he wondered why did he chose to go on such a perilous road, following a boy whom he did not know. But he needed the answers. And the boy knew them.  
  
Ehmon had been destroyed by a breed of weapons left by the Great Old Ones. He was out in the forest when he heard the deadly explosion. He was the only surviving Ehmonian. No, one of the two. The boy had left just before that horrible explosion took place. Why? The boy must have known about the weapons, he could even have been the one who planted or activated them.  
  
But it was impossible. The boy had always loved the town - She was his birthplace, his father, mother, and uncle lived there, all the people and places he knew were there. Nonetheless, he must have known something about it. Furthermore, why is he escaping him?  
  
Now, he had come to believe that he was the one who caused the destruction of Her. He wanted revenge. His parents, his brother, his friends, and his town - his everything - had gone.  
  
He looked up at the towering mountain again to see the little black figure. He knew he would get him sooner or later.  
  
And kill him. 


	4. Chapter 3: The Gunslinger and the Tower

The Oracle and the Shadows of Mountains  
  
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Chapter 3: The Gunslinger and the Tower  
  
She is calling for me, he thought. I shall move on till the next dawn. He slipped off his now light and nearly empty leather bag onto the ground and sat facing the grasses that sprouted out of the cracks of the earth. He watch them danced in the wind for a while then he started a fire. His rat he caught the last time at the foot of the mountain was now cooked above the vivid flames. The air above it fled in a snaking manner. This was his one meal in this two days.  
  
He chewed the meat deftly into a lump of dry and coarse mud. The saltiness wrinkled his lips and some drained down his throat to his hungry stomach. Chew, keep chewing, he thought silently. Draw out all the salt within. He continued chewing and then, he at last swallowed down the bitter roll of dry smashed meat.  
  
The detested feeling had long ago left him. But he was still near to the Oracle. It was to his left. He had never turned his head to his left before.  
  
He picked up his bag and slung them on his shoulders and looked fiercely, to the west. The grey-white hawk remained looking as if caringly at him, on the Argeorn. Somewhere in the west, he thought. Something or someone, waited for him. He could feel it.  
  
The little mouth flew open widely and gave a surprising fierce and terrible cry. The cry grew into a scream, and then, silence. Let all your emotions free, he told himself. Let them all flee. Then he turned and ran. He flew up a path to a mountain peak.  
  
A dark lone figure stood on an old watch tower high above the lands on the mountains. It was the boy. He was staring with small beady eyes to the north. The lands were all within his eyes, until the horizon where the unknown laid. He had always been afraid of the darkness, the unknown. Beyond the rising and sinking mountain side, out across the giant desert and away further, crossing the northern mountains, there lay Ehmon. It was a little sleepy and pain town where he was born in, raised in, played in, and cared by his parents and his uncle. No, he thought firmly, and turned to the west.  
  
The west was once unseen, blocked by the mountains. He had imagined a land of death, clogged full of skeletons and queer-looking bones, and toxic fumes hovered in the dead air. But what he saw was completely different from what he had imagined. There was a vast and majestic green plain, stretching to the ends both the right and left direction till it grew out of view, and grew to the horizon far away, and below it laid the unknown. In the sun the grass blades shown with pride, pride of being in such a big community, perhaps.  
  
Suddenly, the sun unleashed her wild red flames and moved its way to the mid-western sky, like the infernal pits of the... Tower. The redness morphed into dark redness, with dark traces of clouds swirling round the ball. The color raced throughout the sky and down from the horizon to the lands. He was imagining things again, but gaining a touch of realness at each time. It was very real. The sun swelled and swelled to a devilish sight.  
  
He suddenly went into a state of pain again. Or was it a... feeling? He felt it. It was encircling him like the dark clouds of the sun, drawing up his energy to itself. Death, you call it, was it.  
  
He howled in a high pitched sound, drawing in air in and out quickly. A white-tish fuzziness came over him and all his fears were gone. He stood up again, still panting from the fright. Go to her... she knows all... a voice called out in his head. The boy twirled his head here and there and then stood. There was no one around.  
  
He stood firmly on the Oracle's Earth again. The hawk was still there on the Argeorn, in the same graceful manner. It was only a metre away from him. It dawned on him that the hawk could just flying in a flash, biting away his flesh and escape to other places. But he did not care much.  
  
Lie and on the Earth... feel its heaviness... its glassiness... and... the same voice spoke again. It was the Oracle. Touch the pink pillar... He turned away and faced the north and walked slowly. Then he somehow walked back and laid obediently on the ground. touch the Argeorn... the voice continued. His hands drew out slowly from his stomach and touch it with only one finger carefully.  
  
He grew tired. A dark cloud spun round him again, sucking hungrily away his energy. He began muttering an unheard tongue very quickly but smoothly. His tongue continue to fly into an accelerating speed and the chant began to hallucinate himself. The feeling began. He had lost contact with the world.  
  
He was there again. Leaping vivid flames danced devilishly to the Dark's call and the Tower stood there embracing the flames mightily. The infernal flames had widen its territory to the lands around the Tower. Heat waves burning enough to melt iron at a touch rippled out from it madly. But he was unharmed as he was standing in the air several feets away from the fires.  
  
"Tell me about my future," he called out.  
  
It is now before you...  
  
He looked again at the giant mass rising out to the sky, wreathed in the fires of blood-redness. Is this my future? He thought. Being burned to death in the fires, never reaching the top of the Tower?  
  
I don't know... but this is what I see... she said.  
  
Then he saw a little dark lone figure on the edge of the flames, mysteriously immuned to them. He was... the Gunslinger, the last. And yet everyone thought they were all gone. This was the first time he saw a Gunslinger. He looked on, both with excitement and curiosity on the Slinger. He walked oddly slow and overflowed with bitterness. His guns were gone, so were his water bags and other supplies. Yet he continued to walk... to the Tower. He was very empty in his stomach, empty till his whole body felt baggy and airy.  
  
You must follow in his path... to the Tower... she said.  
  
Or you can return to Ehmon... where you long to return...  
  
"Return to Ehmon? No, I won't." he replied almost instantly. "I came such a long way all because of the Tower."  
  
Your dreams told you to go there... is it that's why you looked for it?  
  
He nodded silently.  
  
But they are all unaware of the perils ahead... you will... die...  
  
The boy did not reply nor respond. He stared at the Gunslinger who was now walking through the flames slowly.  
  
"How can I find him? And when would this take place?" he asked.  
  
He is at somewhere in the universe... but do not fear... you will meet him... This will not happen if you meet him...  
  
"Why?"  
  
The Gunslinger's weary face suddenly grew to fear. It spoke of an invisible fear that loomed ahead. His body was thrown forward by an invisible force into... the Tower.  
  
"No." he said fearfully.  
  
I won't force you... you have two choices... one, to return to your town... two, to find the Gunslinger and then... the Tower... which one do you choose?  
  
"You said I would die if I followed him, did you?"  
  
... yes... Back in his home town Ehmon, never was there killing nor sadness. He should never deserve this suffering. Never. I should have stayed at my comfy little home instead of listening to the cursed dream, a voice murmured in his head. He thought for a moment.  
  
"I will find him." he said.  
  
Then, suddenly he regretted deeply for choosing to go on the endless pursuit. It was his pride that made the choice. The feeling of Death flamed in him, throwing him into the pits of Darkness. He fell and fell... and never reached the bottom. He kept accelerating downwards to doom.  
  
Then he opened his eyes. He stared hard ahead of him. No, he wasn't falling. He was laying on the green plain to the west of the mountains. And to his left was the distant and peaceful-looking mountains. Suddenly, he felt that the whole world was waiting for him. A deep scar of responsibility streaked across his heart. Come on, Tom Clifford, you must go now, and find the man, whom I don't know who he is nor where he is. And he walked to the west where the gentle purple sun was hovering above the horizon.  
  
The End 


End file.
